


One Day You're In

by derschmetterling



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Charles Always Says the Absolute Worst Thing He Could Possibly Say, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, F/M, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, In & Out AU, M/M, mild infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 11:06:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4664259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derschmetterling/pseuds/derschmetterling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 90's In&Out AU that nobody asked for. Charles Xavier and Moira MacTaggert are getting married in a week. At least, that was the plan until Charles's former student and current actor Sean Cassidy accidentally outs him at the Oscars. Things become a lot more complicated when reporter Erik Lehnsherr begins to investigate supposedly straight Charles. Raven just really needs this wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Day You're In

**Author's Note:**

> Oh God. First official AO3 fic. Please be gentle. No real warnings aside from some very mild infidelity and cheesy rom-com plots. Loosely based on In&Out and hopefully less hokey.

If anyone told Charles that Sean Cassidy would become an Oscar winning actor five years after graduating from Westchester high school, Charles would have told them to jump in a lake. But there he was, five years after Cassidy's graduation and sitting on the couch with Moira curled up next to him as they watched Sean receive his award.

Moira sighed a little as Sean rose from his seat, shocked, smiling, and a little dazed as always.

"Is that a sigh of unfulfilled lust I hear?" Charles teased as Moira turned up the volume.

"Oh shut it," she smirked. "I'm just remembering how weird that kid was in high school."

"You remember Cassidy?"

"I was Logan's teaching assistant, remember? Sean used to bother me after class to ask about Charlemagne when he was supposed to be studying Napoleon."

"Oh hush! He's about to speak!"

Sean looked up and gave the screen his million-watt smile. "I just want to thank everyone who worked on this movie for this award. The amount of effort that went into telling this incredible story was...incredible." Sean laughed and looked down shyly before continuing. "This is for my parents, my family, my wonderful friends," he took a deep breath, "and for every man and woman out there who struggles with the persecution for being gay everyday." Sean paused again, looking contemplative for a moment as everyone absorbed his words.

"And finally," he said, holding the statue aloft. "This is for the amazing teacher that never gave up on me and was the biggest inspiration for me during the filming of the movie. To Mr. Xavier, an amazing, gay teacher who taught me that no goal is unreachable." Sean grinned. "Thank you."

Charles was frozen, and so was Moira. They sat there, watching everyone else on the screen applaud enthusiastically as Sean exited the stage, still brandishing the Oscar.

Charles didn't know how long he sat there for, before he felt Moira shift against him nervously.

"...Charles?"

"Yes?" His voice came out much too high pitched, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Yes, dear?"

Moira sat up, her eyes wide. "Did Sean just say-"

"No," Charles shook his head. "He must have misspoke. Or we heard wrong. Or, or, something."

"Charles..."

"Moira-"

"Charles it's not true, is it?"

A laugh startled out of Charles involuntarily. He grabbed Moira's hands but she wrenched them away. "Of course it's not true! Moira, I'm not gay!"

Moira looked at him warily. "Are you sure?"

"Moira, would I be engaged to you if I was gay? I mean, Christ, you know Cassidy's an idiot! I love you," Charles said hastily.

"I love you too," Moira said, and then she giggled nervously. "Oh wow, this is all just so-"

But she was interrupted by the doorbell.

"Let me get that," he told her. "Probably just the entire town."

Moira's laughter followed him into the foyer. Standing outside the door was not the entire town, but Raven, standing in ridiculous high heels and looking shell shocked.

"Good lord, did you run here?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Raven snapped, "Hank drove."

Charles looked past her shoulder and saw Hank sitting in the car outside, and waving sheepishly.

"Is it true?"

"Oh my god," Charles rolled his eyes. "No, I am not gay. I'm marrying Moira in a week!"

"Charles, why would Sean Cassidy say something like that?"

"I don't know!" Charles snapped. "I taught that kid English for four years, and he was stoned the whole time. I have no idea why he thought that. Clearly he doesn't know I'm engaged and very obviously straight."

Raven looked at him. "You're positive?"

"Yes!" Charles shouted. "How many times do I have to say it? I'm straight, I'm straight, I'm straight!"

Moira chose that moment to appear over Raven's shoulder. "Hi Raven."

Raven had the decency to blush. "Hi Moira."

"I can assure you that your brother is definitely straight," Moira smiled, kissing Charles on the cheek. "The wedding's still on, and you're still the Maid of Honor."

Raven smiled. "Oh thank god. You don't understand how badly I need this wedding."

Charles rolled his eyes. "If everyone is done questioning my orientation, I'd like to go to bed."

Raven ducked her head and nodded. "Brunch," she said decisively. "You two, Saturday. Mimosas, toasting your very happy future."

Charles grinned, "Okay, darling sister, see you then."

"G'night Charles!" Hank called from the car as Raven tottered back to the car. "G'night Moira!"

As soon as they were gone, Charles shut and sagged against the door, sighing. "This has been a very long and frustrating night," he told her.

Moira laughed. "I can only imagine your school day tomorrow."

Charles groaned. "Maybe no one saw it?" He asked hopefully.

"Don't hold out hope," Moira said, pushing him upstairs towards the bedroom. "This town has been obsessed with Sean Cassidy ever since he starred in his first episode of Law & Order."

Charles groaned again, this time more exaggerated, and Moira smirked. "C'mon," she said. "Off to bed with you."

Charles nodded resignedly and shuffled off to change into his pajamas. He felt drained, like the past few minutes had been hours. He brushed his teeth next to Moira, slipped into bed next to Moira, kissed her on the forehead, and laid down to sleep.

He couldn't understand why Sean had said what he did. He sifted through the old memories he had of Sean Cassidy when he was a student at Westchester High School, trying to figure out what impression he gave to Sean. He was relatively new to teaching then, being only twenty-two himself when fourteen year old Sean entered his world. He spent the next four years trying to get through to Cassidy. He didn't have any other ambitions besides getting stoned behind the local pharmacy. Charles was determined to find out why Sean was such a slacker. It turned out no one had ever bothered to reach out to him.  
Charles read Shakespeare with Sean. He gave him books of poetry when Sean expressed even the tiniest interest in Keats, Whitman, and Dickinson. He handed him Wilde's work, novels by the Brontë sisters and Austen.

Sean hadn't responded so well at first. He was disinterested during class, but after those hours he came alive. He was curious, he wanted to know things. He was still a slacker when he graduated from Westchester High, but by then Charles knew that Sean was hiding a highly inquisitive mind. He had hoped Sean would put that mind to good use. Charles had been so proud when Sean got his first role on TV, when he got on stage and did Hamlet, played a modern adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, starred as drug addicts and journalists and soldiers in every movie he could get his hands on. Even movies Charles didn't particularly enjoy, like Mold, which was a dubious sci-Fi thriller, made him proud, because it still meant Sean was going somewhere.  
Hearing his name in Sean's acceptance speech had made his heart soar. He just wished Sean hadn't made such an egregious mistake.

He felt Moira tap his shoulder. "You okay?" She asked.

"Yeah," he said, forcing a smile. "I'm getting married to the greatest woman in the world in a week. What's not to be okay about?"

Charles could see Moira's smile even in the dark. She leaned forward to kiss him, and he reciprocated. She tried to push forward, but he slowed it to a peck and hummed. He was too tired.

"Sorry love," he yawned.

She hummed back. "It's fine. Sleep well."

\--

By the next morning, Charles woke feeling refreshed, and for a moment had completely forgotten the disastrous Oscar speech. Then he remembered and significantly slowed his morning routine to avoid the inevitable. Moira was standing by the door and grimacing around a cup of coffee. "Should I wish you good luck?"

Charles smiled weakly. "Maybe?"

She looped her arm in his and tugged him down to his car.

"Just concentrate on teaching," she told him. "What's on the docket today?"

"Plato," Charles sighed.

Moira gave him a sideways glance. "You trying to take my job away from me?"

"History and mythology are hardly the same thing, love."

Every student had their eyes trained on Charles the minute he walked into the room. He sighed, putting down his things. Obviously he wished he could just teach, but it was clear he would have to settle the rumor first.

"Okay," he said, coming to stand in the front of the room. "Ask away."

There was silence, then Scott slowly put his hand up. "Mr. Xavier, what Sean Cassidy said...is it true?"

"No!" Charles said, laughing. "Definitely not. I'm marrying Ms. MacTaggert in a week!"

The class all heaved a sigh of relief and began to laugh.

"I wonder what made him say it," Kitty Pryde said.

"Let's just say Cassidy was not the brightest bulb in the box," Charles said. "But he did pay a lot of attention in class when we read Plato's Symposium, so I suggest you all do the same so you can one day become Oscar winning actors."

Charles loved reading aloud for the class. He had been told by many people that he had a good voice for lecturing, for reciting. Whenever he started the Shakespeare unit, his students would goad him to orate for them, and Plato's Symposium was always fun to read from. Not that Charles forced the class to read the entire thing, but he would choose a few choice sections and have the students write about one of the many forms of love described in Plato's words. Some of the essays were simplistic and sappy, but others were confused and wandering and very romantic. Charles couldn't remember what Sean had chosen to write about.

"According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves," Charles began.

Forty-five minutes later, his first class was leaving the room and chattering away, some of them still talking about Sean Cassidy's Oscar speech. Charles however, felt much more settled about it now, and was prepping for his second class when there was a knock at the door.

"Er, Charles," Principal Levine stood there, looking awkward. "I just wanted to check in with you, see how you're doing, after-"

"I'm quite alright," Charles said, a bit sharply. "If you are inferring about Cassidy's comment last night, I can assure you the assumption is completely unfounded."

"Right, of course," Levine said. "Just, this may draw some attention to the school, and perhaps you may be better off, I mean-"

"I'm not going to stop teaching just because a former student of mine said something idiotic," Charles said coldly. "If you want to fire me, maybe you can do it when I get back from my honeymoon. With my wife."

Levine's normally red face paled slightly. He coughed and bounced back on his heels, looking sweaty and nervous. "I'm not going to fire you," he told Charles. "Just...let's try to put this fire out before it catches on, shall we?"

"You can rest assured that I've been doing nothing but all morning."

Levine coughed once again and backed into the hallway as more of Charles's students came in, all looking at him curiously.

"Okay," Charles said, as they began to take their seats. "We all watched Mr. Cassidy's acceptance speech last night, so let me clarify a few things for you..."

\--

Moira could feel several pairs of eyes on the back of her head as she poured herself a cup of coffee in the break room. She'd been dodging curious and pitying stares all day, and didn't think Charles was faring much better. Emma Frost, one of the science teachers, sidled up to her. "How are you doing, sugar?" Emma asked awkwardly.

Moira forced a smile. "Just fine, Emma."

"Are you sure?"

Moira thought she might break the mug if she continued to squeeze it so hard. So what? One man thinks Charles is gay and suddenly the whole town is convinced? Charles had never been accused of being anything but the perfect fiancé since he and Moira had gotten engaged. Sure, the sex was infrequent and not always enthusiastic on his part, but that was because Charles was always tired after work and because they were both so busy. And what did it matter anyway? So she was engaged to someone with a low sex drive, big deal. Charles was still compassionate and peaceful and polite and funny. He made her laugh and supported her and loved her in a way she had never felt loved before. They were friends before anything else, she knew in her heart. How many people could say they'd married their best friend?

"I'm great," Moira said. "I'm still getting married next week," she told the room at large. "In case anyone is wondering."

They all looked away at once.

Satisfied, she marched out of the room. There was silence, then:

"Poor girl," Emma said. "Obviously doesn't want to admit it."

"I always knew Xavier was a little...well, a little bit of a Nancy," Mr. Shaw said. "Didn't surprise me at all."

"Doesn't surprise you what?" asked Janos.

"To be frank with all of you," Logan said from his corner. "I don't really give a damn, and neither should any of you. If Chuck says he's straight then he's straight, and if he's not, it's nobody's business but his own," he paused. "And Moira's," he conceded.

"What's his business?" Janos complained.

"That he likes dick, idiot!" Emma snapped just as Charles walked in the room.

"Er, hello," he said, as Emma clasped her well-manicured hands to her mouth.

"I'll get a cup of coffee later," he said, and promptly walked back out again.

"Fuck," Emma said.

\--

Moira was out at a last minute gown-fitting with Raven. They'd asked Charles for input on Moira's dress, but confronted with all those frothy white gowns had put Charles at a loss. After he pointed to one with ruffles and sheepishly said, "that looks nice," he had been banned from any wedding planning. So instead of grading papers with Moira and watching some mindless TV, he was at the closest bar with a beer in his hand and tie in the other. It felt absolutely stifling around his neck at school, and he found himself much relaxed without it, rolling up his sleeves before taking a long drink from his beer.

"You look like you've had one hell of a day."

Charles squinted at the fellow who'd just sat beside him at the bar.

The town wasn't small enough that Charles knew every face, but it was small enough that he could tell when someone was from out of town, and this man definitely was. Expensive looking trousers, a dark turtleneck with rolled up sleeves and expensive looking shoes. His face was very handsome, Charles thought to himself. He had the chiseled features and cheekbones of a movie star, and indeed looked like he belonged on TV. His hair was slicked back from his forehead, and his green-gray eyes assessed Charles sharply. There were a lot of sharp looking teeth in that grin, Charles noticed.

"It could be said," he agreed, shaking the man's hand and appreciating the firm, warm grip. "Charles Xavier."

The man's eyes widened, but only marginally. "Aren't you the man who-"

"Was outed by a former student and current Oscar winner?" Charles said dully. "Albeit falsely? Yes. Yes I am."

"Wait," the man said. "So you're not gay?"

"'Fraid not," Charles said. "In fact, I'm getting married next week. To a woman," he added. "If that wasn't obvious."

The man chuckled, angling himself to be closer to Charles. "No it was."

"I'm hoping things will all just blow over by the time I've returned from the honeymoon," Charles said conversationally. He wasn't sure why he was talking to this man, he wasn't generally so forthcoming with strangers. "I can live with the awkwardness a week beforehand."

"I'm sure you can," the man told him. "To tell you the truth, I'm not entirely sure Cassidy was sober during that speech."

"Oh he spent most of high school extremely stoned," Charles said dryly and his companion laughed.

"I saw the movie he won an Oscar for, eh, Discharged?"

"Yes, I did as well."

"What did you think?"

Charles thought for a moment, recalling the grungy movie about two Vietnam soldiers dishonorably discharged after their affair is brought into light. He remembered feeling a clenched sensation in his stomach as he watched Cassidy and Remy LeBeau, another up-and-coming actor, swear their love to each other in the turgid Vietnamese jungle. He remembered trying to subtly wipe the tears on his cheek away when Cassidy's character watched LeBeau's being taken away for surgery, and later finding out that one of his legs had been amputated. He remembered applauding like the rest of the theater as they all remembered Sean Cassidy with such fondness and pride. And he remembered teaching Cassidy about Achilles and Patroclus in Plato's Symposium and thinking that the lesson must have stuck with Cassidy when he and LeBeau were intertwined in a passionate embrace.

"I liked it," Charles said honestly. "It felt...real."

"Yeah," the man said. "I thought so too."

Their agreement over Discharged led to a discussion of Sean's other movies which led to a discussion about other movies they liked and then about what books they enjoyed and what music they listened to. Before Charles knew it, hours had passed and he'd drunk too many beers. Everything was blurring, the passage of time, the man’s face, Charles's thoughts.

"W-Wow," Charles said. "How time...how time..."

"Indeed," his drinking partner said, and once again distracted Charles with that twinkling smile.

"We should do this again sometime," the man said after Charles had stumbled out of the bar, claiming the need to go home to Moira. "I enjoyed talking with you."

"And me...with you," Charles said a bit stupidly, taking in just how tall and firm the man was as he steadied Charles by the shoulders. There was a cab waiting outside the bar, but Charles didn't remember calling one.

"Here's my number," a piece of paper was put into Charles's hand and he pocketed it much more reverently than he needed to.

He watched the other man turn his back and start off down the street when he realized.

"Hey!" He called out, and the man turned around. "I never got your name!"

"Erik!" The man shouted back. "Erik Lehnsherr!"

"Nice to meet you Erik!" Charles said, thinking that the name sounded very familiar.

"Nice to meet you too, Charles!" Erik called back. "Call me if you need a friendly ear."

Moira really was the best friend ever, Charles thought blearily to himself as Moira practically poured him into bed after seeing how drunk he was.

"I'm going to spend the night at my own place," she whispered into his ear, and he nodded sleepily. "I love you," she said, but he'd already nodded off.

\--

"Hey," Charles asked Moira from the kitchen as he stared down at the number scrawled on the paper. "Do you know anyone named Erik Lehnsherr?"

"Erik Lehnsherr?" Moira stuck her head through the doorway. "The news reporter?"

Charles clapped a hand to his forehead. Of course. Of fucking course, Erik was a reporter. Charles closed his eyes. Erik was probably reporting the "Charles Xavier Scandal" as he stood there. Then Charles reminded himself that there was no scandal. He was straight, he was engaged to Moira, he was happy.  
Charles crumpled up the paper and threw it in the trash. No reason to call Erik now.

"Why do you ask?" Moira asked, as she walked into the room, holding her wedding binder.

"No reason," Charles said, feeling his cheeks burn. "I heard the name earlier and I couldn't place it."

"He's that serious investigative journalist," Moira said. "He wrote a couple pieces I really liked, but ever since he's started reporting he's only been covering silly fluff pieces." Moira rolled her eyes. "It's a shame really."

Charles nodded, hoping Moira didn't notice the red flush on his face.

"In fact, I think he was covering the Oscars the other night," Moira said cheerfully as she put down the binder to wrap her arms around Charles.

"Oh," Charles replied, because he couldn't think of anything else to say.

\--

That morning was the first that Charles saw them. Reporters, hordes of them, swarming the perimeters of the school. One caught sight of him and yelled, "That's Xavier!"

Charles cursed and ran around the back to a side entrance, leaping over cobblestones and bushes to escape the scrutiny. He would have made it had one reporter not sprinted very impressively despite her height.

"Mr. Xavier!" She shouted, shoving a microphone under his nose. "What do you have to say about Sean Cassidy outing you as a homosexual at the Oscars?"

"Mr. Xavier! Is your engagement to your fiancée a sham?"

"Mr. Xavier, did you ever pursue a relationship with Sean Cassidy while he was in high school?"

"Mr. Xavier-"

"That is enough!" Charles snapped. "The only thing I want to say is that I am not gay, I am happily engaged and I am going to be happily married! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to teach in peace!"

Charles shoved past all the bodies and quickly shut himself inside, almost not noticing Logan standing there, looking thoughtful and sympathetic.

"Rough morning?" He asked.

"You have no idea," Charles muttered.

\--

It didn't occur to Charles until about halfway through the day that Erik Lehnsherr was probably the one responsible for attracting all the reporters. He flushed angrily, remembering Lehnsherr's sharp smile and movie star features. Lehnsherr had obviously gotten him drunk so that Charles would spill his life story, and now every reporter on the East Coast was here to interrogate him.

He looked up from his desk and saw his students all deeply absorbed in reading, with the exception of Scott Summers. He was staring right at Charles and looking nervous.

When class was dismissed, Charles called for Scott to stay behind.

"Can I help you Scott? You looked...unsettled in class today."

Scott bit his lip. "It's nothing, I just..." He sighed and rummaged through his pockets. "I got this in the mail today."

Charles reached forward and took the letter from Scott. It was from the university.

"Scott, this is-"

"Please read it for me?" Scott asked. "If I got in, then it's because of you, and I really need to know."

Charles nodded, opening the envelope and taking out the letter. A large, impressive seal stood out as Charles quickly scanned the first few lines.

Scott, much like Sean Cassidy, had not stood out as a particularly stellar student when he first arrived in Charles' classroom. Charles didn't know a lot about Scott's home life, only that he was being raised by his older brother Alex and that his early childhood had been rough. Under Charles, Scott had become a much more open and curious student. His work had improved tenfold and with some help, he managed to raise his grades just in time for college applications.  
Charles had hoped that the glowing recommendation letter he sent was enough to capture just how hardworking Scott was. Apparently it did.

"You got in!" Charles said excitedly. "Scott you got in, full ride and everything!"

"Full ride?" Scott asked, his eyes huge beneath his glasses. "I-I got in!"

"You got in!" Charles cried, and Scott dashed forward and hugged him strongly around the middle.

"S-sorry," Scott said, looking embarrassed as he pulled away.

"Oh you've nothing to apologize for, you brilliant boy!" Charles replied, still grinning. "Scott this is fantastic! You've got to tell Alex straight away!"

Scott's eyes widened again and he nodded decisively to himself. "Right," he said dazedly. "Right, yeah," he slung his backpack over his shoulder and took the letter from Charles. "Thanks Mr. Xavier," Scott said, "you're the best teacher ever."

Charles was touched. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "You're welcome, Scott," he said as he watched Scott leave the room.

Charles snuck to his car and dashed home, ignoring the frantic cries of the reporters behind him. He thanked whatever power may be that Raven took Moira out to visit their wedding venue after school, so that she wouldn't be subjected to all of this.

Moira.

Charles sighed, tapping the wheel. He loved Moira, he did. He thought she was insightful, smart and funny. She was pretty and independent. She made Charles smile and she got along with his family, understood that his relationship with his mother was complicated, never pushed or prodded. Maybe it wasn't the wild, passionate love that Charles had dreamed about when he was younger, but it was solid, and firm.

He parked the car and slowly made his way into the kitchen, still thinking.

Sex with Moira was...fine. It always was. He shook his head, Sean's words ringing in his ears. He wasn't gay, that just wasn't him. Charles Xavier, English teacher, not Charles Xavier, gay English teacher. It wasn't who he was. He didn't know anything about fashion or Barbara Streisand, although he knew it wasn't exactly good to rely on stereotypes. And men, kissing men, being...with men.

Something fluttered in Charles's stomach at the thought and he quickly pushed it away. His eyes fell on the trash can, and he remembered.

Digging through the trash, he got his hands on the wrinkled, but still legible piece of paper. Erik's voice was surprised but warm when he answered. "Hello?"

"Hi Erik," Charles said, his voice coming out deeper than he meant it to. "This is Charles, from the bar the other night?"

"Of course!" Erik let out a rich sounding laugh. "Westchester's second biggest celebrity, how could I forget?"

Charles laughed along weakly, pretending that the last few hours hadn’t taken as much of a toll as it had. He twisted the coiled wire of the landline between his fingers, considering his options. He wanted to give Lehnsherr a piece of his mind.

“Do you think we could meet somewhere?” Charles asked. “I’ve had a really overwhelming day, I could use someone to talk to and my fiancee’s not around…”

He heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end. “I- sure,” Erik said, sounding surprised. “Of course, I’d love to meet. Um, do you want to get a cup of coffee or something?”

Charles felt himself smiling at the thought of strangling Erik Lehnsherr in the middle of a coffee shop. See the newspapers run that story. “There’s a coffee shop not too far from where we met, called Cafe Grey? We could meet there in half an hour?”

“Could we make it twenty minutes?” Lehnsherr asked, betraying his casual attitude.

“Of course,” Charles said. “I’ll see you then. I’ll be the one being followed by hordes of reporters.”

Lehnsherr laughed again. “Don’t worry,” he said, and Charles could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll chase them off for you.”

After hanging up, Charles walked into the bathroom and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He looked bedraggled, his hair looked like it was exploding off his scalp and his tweed was rumpled. He quickly splashed water on his face, trying to rid himself of the spots of red high on his cheeks. Charles thought he looked a bit, well, insane, so he quickly began digging through his drawers for a better change of clothes. Last time he saw Lehnsherr, he was drunk and similarly ruffled, so this time he wanted to make a better impression. He remembered Lehnsherr’s simple, but stylish clothing and suddenly fervently wished that he had something in the house besides slacks, cardigans, and tweed. Opting instead to dress down in slacks and a button-down, he raced to the sink to try and tame his hair and stopped abruptly, wondering why he was even bothering to look nice for this. It wasn’t a date. He was going to kill the man, after all.

\--

"Thanks for meeting me," Charles said, and cursed inwardly at being so polite.

"It was my pleasure," Lehnsherr said, settling down opposite Charles in the cozy and dimly lit coffee shop. He had his hands around a latte, and for the first time Charles noticed just how long and thin his fingers were. He shook his head slightly. Focus, Xavier.

"You know," Charles began. "I thought to myself that your name was awfully familiar, and then Moira, my fiancée, remembered that you were a reporter. Funny, how I managed to run into you just before all the others came rushing to my school's doors."

Erik's brow furrowed and he nervously ran fingers through his hair, disturbing the neat slick. "Charles, I-"

"Save it," Charles replied coldly. "I know what happened. You tracked me down, figured it was your chance to get the story before anyone else, then you called in the reporter storm so I would never suspect it was you." Charles narrowed his eyes to stare into Lehnsherr's shocked face.

"Charles, no! That is not what happened!" Lehnsherr said hurriedly. "Let me explain myself!"

"Please do," Charles said through gritted teeth. "Before I strangle you."

"Okay, it's true that I came to Westchester to interview you, but meeting you at the bar was a total coincidence! I thought I could interview you there, but you were too drunk for me to write anything ethical, so I just decided to talk to you. And the more I talked to you the more I realized that you're a kind, thoughtful person, though completely unable to hold your drink. The other reporters only came to Westchester because they were all hoping you would give them some extraordinary scoop. They'll all be gone by now if you told them what you told me."

"Then why are you still here?" Charles asked.

Erik looked both ways before leaning forward. "Because," he said quietly. "I want to cover your wedding. And because I don't believe you when you say that you're straight."

"Oh for god's sake!" Charles narrowly avoided drawing attention to their booth by stopping his fist a moment before it hit the table. "What on earth makes you think that?"

"You really don't remember?" Erik asked, his brow furrowed.

"Remember what?" Charles said exasperatedly as he took a bitter sip of tea.

Erik's eyes darted both ways before he leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table to speak closer to Charles. As he did so, Charles noticed the worried creases in Erik's forehead. He probably had no one to smooth them away, Charles thought. Then he snapped back to attention, staring into Erik's green and gray eyes.

"Charles, the other night at the bar, you told me," Erik paused, flushing slightly. "You told me you, eh, found me attractive."

Charles blushed to the roots of his hair, and wrenched himself away from Erik, his lip tightening. "I did no such thing!" He whispered.

"Charles..." Erik said. "I turned my recorder on after our first beer. I didn't remember to turn it off. I can show you, if you'd like?"

"Not here!" Charles hissed, looking at the other patrons, who were now staring at them curiously, having recognized Charles and probably Erik as well. "We'll take a walk," Charles said shortly.

He stood and grabbed his coat, and Erik followed hastily, pulling on his own overcoat and looking supremely stylish next to a Charles who felt rather frumpy. A part of Charles hesitantly admitted that Erik was a rather attractive man, which made him blush harder and stomp to the trash can to dump his cup.  
Erik opened the door for Charles, and grimaced at the glare Charles gave him. They set off down the block, walking past shops and offices and people Charles had known his whole life, all of them staring after him curiously.

They'd been walking in silence for quite some time, to the point where Charles was surprised to see that they'd left the shopping center behind and were now standing on a lonely road, with a dusky field behind them.

"Is this far enough?" Erik asked dryly, and Charles scowled.

"I just need to get through this wedding," Charles told him.

Erik huffed and pulled the recorder out of his pocket, gesturing Charles to come forward. When he was satisfied, he pressed the playback button.

"I'm not gay," was the first words that issued from the recorder, and Charles shot Erik a triumphant look.

Erik put a finger to his lips and it continued. "I'm not," Charles slurred. "I'm marry- marrying Moira. She's perfect, yanno? Like...everyone loves her. I love her. She's great," Charles said lowly. "Pretty. She's pretty. Not as pretty as you though," and Charles clapped his hands to his own mouth. "You're all...mmm, strong. Really strong. I like that. And you got those, those pretty eyes. Green? Or gray? It's all...damn. I kinda wanna...but I can't, I'm engaged."

"Charles..." Erik's voice was breathy in the recording. "I'm a report- I think you're a nice man, a good man. Are you sure marrying Moira is the right thing?"

"Should be," Charles said. "I mean I have to. But what...what Cassidy said t-the other night..."

There was rustling then Erik said, "But what if marrying her is a mistake?"

"Don't...don't wanna hurt her."

"But Charles," Erik sounded pleading. "If you marry her when you don't really love her, not like that at least, won't that hurt her?"

"I don't wanna hurt her... You're hot. You're really hot. Lemme, God, I wanna touch you."

Erik turned off the recorder. Charles slowly brought his hands to his eyes and let out a shuddering breath.

"What happened after that," Charles asked.

"I called you a cab," Erik said. "Then I gave you my number."

"I remember that part," Charles said, his eyes still covered. Slowly, he lowered them. "I'm not gay."

"Well, I am."

Charles floundered for a minute. "What?"

Erik sighed, sticking his recorder in his pocket and looking along the road. "I'm gay, Charles."

"You what?"

"I'm gay, I came out."

"To whom?" Charles asked dumbly.

Erik laughed a little, Charles's shock putting him more at ease. "To everybody. My parents, my friends, my boss. One day, I just snapped." Erik moved to stand closer to Charles, not stepping back when he pulled away. "I got tired of switching pronouns, and, and remembering to lower my voice, and I couldn't take lying to the people that I love. Does that sound familiar?"

"No," Charles said, sounding a tad more defensive than he would have liked.

Erik sighed. "So one day I just told them all: Mom, Dad, Irene, I'm gay!"

"What happened?"

"Well, my mother cried, for exactly ten seconds. My boss said, 'Who cares?' And my father said, 'But you're so tall.'"

Erik smiled and shook his head a little at the memory. "But everyone surprised me, once I let them." He sobered up slightly and looked Charles directly in the eye. "Sometimes the worst thing you think could happen, turns out to be the best thing."

"For you," Charles said viciously, stalking down the road.

"For anyone!" Erik called back, his long legs taking only a few strides to catch up with Charles's worried pacing.

"But I'm not gay!"

"Are you sexually attracted to women?"

Charles stopped, planting his feet on the ground. Erik nearly crashed into him and circled around as Charles began to wring his wrists.  
"You don't understand!"

"You know what you need?"

"I need a wedding, I-"

Erik shook his head and grabbed Charles by the shoulders. He barely had a moment to react before he felt Erik's lips on his own. He felt himself alight with something he had never felt before. Erik's grip was strong and uncompromising, keeping Charles anchored to the ground while he simultaneously floated away. Erik moved more insistently against Charles, wrapping his arms eagerly around his waist. Charles went up on his toes to align their mouths more properly, his arms slinging around Erik's neck without a second thought. After a long moment, they broke apart. Erik was staring at Charles with elation, grinning.  
Charles slowly brought a hand to his mouth.

"You kissed me."

"You noticed," Erik replied smugly.

"This isn't Hollywood!"

Erik shrugged. “You’re telling me people don't kiss in Westchester?”

"Not at a…at a...intersection!"

Erik laughed a little shyly. "Have you ever felt like that kissing Moira?"

Charles was saved responding by the honk of an approaching car.

"Raven, Hank!" Charles squeaked.

Raven cranked down the window, smiling madly. "Charles! What are you doing on the side of the road? And who's your-" Raven's eyes grew wide. "You're that reporter, Erik Lehnsherr!"

"Yes ma'am," Erik said, waving a little.

"Trying to get a story out of Charles?" Hank asked. "He's getting married in a few days."

"Oh I'm just here to cover the wedding," Erik said smoothly.

"Why are you in the middle of nowhere?"

“Oh, we just happened to meet at the intersexual- er, I mean homosex- the intersection!" Charles stammered, his whole face red with embarrassment.

“Well, hop in the car," Raven said. "We just got the wedding cake, so you'll have to squeeze."

Charles dashed to the car, fitting himself beside a white monstrosity, covered in swirling icing and festooned with ribbons.

"Would you like a ride, Mr. Lehnsherr?" Hank was asking.

"I would love one," Erik said warmly, and before Charles could protest, Erik was seating himself on the other side of the cake.

He looked at Charles with dark eyes as Raven nattered on about the wedding.

"You sound more excited about this wedding than Charles and Moira," Hank said dryly.

"Well, maybe I just like weddings," Raven said loftily. "We're far overdue for one anyway, Charles and Moira have been dating for four years, after all."

Erik twitched a brow at Charles before turning to address Raven in the front seat. "How long have you two been together," he asked.

"Oh, since high school," Hank said. "So it's been…"

"Nine years," Raven said looking a little maudlin at the thought.

"And she hasn't gotten sick of me yet," Hank said, grinning.

"Clearly not," Erik replied, smiling back.

"So where can we drop you off, Mr. Lehnsherr?" Charles asked loudly.

"Oh, I'm staying at the hotel," Erik said. "If it's not too much trouble."

"None at all," Hank said smoothly. "We're just dropping off the cake at the church kitchen and setting up.

"Wedding is only five days away!" Raven smiled. "No cold feet, right Charles."

Charles smiled tightly. "Not at all."

They dropped off Erik at his hotel, Charles steadfastly ignoring him and Hank and Raven unbelievably charmed by his smarmy personality. When Charles got home, he immediately grabbed a beer from the fridge and began drinking. A few hours later he was wrapped in his duvet and crying into the bottle. The sound of knocking at his door made him snap out of it and wipe his eyes. He disentangled himself from the blanket, stumbled slightly, and made his way to the door. Through the peephole was Logan, looking as uninterested as ever.

"Logan?"

"Hey Chuck," Logan said affably. "I got the boys in my car, what's say we have a last hurrah before the wedding?"

"It's not a death sentence, Logan," Charles replied. "That said, I've been drinking since seven."

Logan chuckled. "That's fine, we're all gonna catch up real soon."

"Who's driving?"

"Darwin, he's here to make sure none of us die, especially Alex."

A few minutes later found Charles sandwiched between Alex and Hank, with Logan and Darwin in the front.

"How are you doing, Charles?"

"Perfect," Charles smiled, and Logan gave him a look.

"I mean nervous," Charles said. "Nervous obviously. But excited."

"You sure you're not gonna run off with one of the groomsmen?" Alex laughed.

"Aw, lay off him," Darwin said. "That Sean Cassidy is crazy. It's all that Hollywood getting to his head."

"Just make sure you get married one way or another," Hank said. "Raven needs this wedding. She's been talking about nothing else for months."

The rest of the evening carried on in a similar fashion, everyone gently ribbing Charles but none of them going too close towards Cassidy's remarks.

By the time Charles stumbled home, he was feeling pleasantly drunk and not optimistic about the fact that he had school tomorrow.

\--

On a Wednesday afternoon, when Charles was reading to his class about Achilles in the Symposium, he received a knock at his door. Charles raised a brow.  
The reporters, like Erik had predicted, fled after the first day, all of them more or less satisfied with Charles's proclamation of heterosexuality. He opened the door to see Principal Levine looking sweaty and nervous as usual.

"I'm almost finished with class," Charles told him gently.

Levine nodded. "I'll wait in the back."

Not much later, the students filed out, some of them talking animatedly about class, others chattering away about their own silly personal lives.  
Scott Summers stopped by Charles's desk, smiling nervously.

"I told Alex," Scott said.

"I know," Charles smiled. "He's very proud of you."

Scott grinned and pushed his glasses further up his nose. "I think you deserve that Teacher of the Year Award," he told Charles.

"Thank you, Scott," Charles said, touched.

"Bye, Mr. Xavier."

Once Scott had left the room, Levine cleared his throat, making his presence known.

"Charles..."

"Yes?"

Levine shrugged. "All this...publicity surrounding the school, it's made some of the parents concerned..." Levine scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "And I think it would be best for everyone..."

Charles stood up, his skin prickling. "Are you firing me?"

"A leave of absence!" Levine said hurriedly. "Just until you come back from the honeymoon!"

"That's ridiculous, the wedding's in four days!"

"Parents have expressed-"

"I don't give a damn what they've expressed, there's no truth to what Cassidy said!"

"I'm sorry, Charles," Levine said firmly. "You should collect your things now."

"This is ridiculous," Charles snarled, beginning to pack his belongings into his bag. "You know my orientation doesn't affect my teaching."

"It's out of my hands, Charles."

Charles shook his head in disgust. He walked out of the room, ignoring Moira who looked after him curiously and stomped down the hall.  
Emma and Shaw were standing near the doors, the two of them looking at Charles with unsurprised, slightly amused looks on their face.

"Something wrong, Mr. Xavier?" Shaw asked.

Charles didn't grace him with an answer, instead choosing to shoulder past the two and make his way to his car.

\--

The next three days passed with a sort of desperation, Charles sitting on the sofa in a horrible haze of confusion, clenching and unclenching his fingers against the arms of the couch. Moira sat in the armchair in the corner, sneaking looks at him over the top of her book. "It will all be back to normal once we get married," she'd assured him more than once. "It's just hearsay."

But that's the thing! Charles wanted to shout. It's not just hearsay, it might even be true! Charles sat there, staring at nothing in particular and thinking about Erik. He hadn't approached Charles again after their last meeting, save for a voicemail that Charles quickly deleted before Moira could play it. Erik was infuriating, but now Charles was distracted by the contents of his smile, the shine of his hair and of his green gray eyes. Charles could feel the strength of Erik's arms around him, curling around his waist so tight, and Erik's own waist, so thin in comparison to the breadth of his shoulders, it made Charles want to try and give him some sort of warmth to pad between his ribs. He was a distraction, a mistake Charles made. He didn't want to entertain the notion, but Erik became even harder to ignore as the days passed.

\--

"Hey Sean have you seen this?"

Sean looked up from his phone. The girl who's name he'd already forgotten was pointing to the TV screen. He sat up to look at the footage of a guy practically vaulting a couples of shrubs as the paparazzi chased him. Frowning, Sean looked at the guy a little closer, who was frantically trying to unlock his car.

"Shit! Mr. Xavier?"

The screen changed and a blonde, fragile looking newscaster was wearing a shit-eating grin. "Looks like not everyone is enjoying the success of Sean Cassidy's career. That was Charles Xavier, a teacher at Sean Cassidy's alma mater, Westchester High School. Cassidy mentioned Xavier in his acceptance speech last week during the Academy Awards, referencing Xavier's sexual orientation as a homosexual as an inspiration to him during the filming of his award winning film Discharged." The newscaster gave an even wider grin to the camera. "It looks like Mr. Xavier had a response to all the attention Cassidy's speech gathered..."

The footage changed to a harried looking Mr. Xavier shouting, "The only thing I want to say is that I am not gay, I am happily engaged and I am going to be happily married!"

"Shit!"

Sean ran both hands through his hair, watching with absolute horror as the news program ran pictures of Charles, himself, and of the school. There was an unflattering photo of Sean at fourteen years old, and more photos of Charles during the time he was Sean's teacher. Then they began to broadcast pictures of his fiancée.

"Ms. MacTaggert?!" Sean gaped at the screen. "He's engaged to Ms. MacTaggert?"

She still looked extremely pretty, and Sean felt a long buried infatuation rise to the surface. It was so unfair that Mr. Xavier was going to marry Ms. MacTaggert. She was the subject of Sean's teen fantasies.

"Wow," the girl said, laughing. "Poor girl. You really fucked up, Sean."

"I...I didn't..." Sean ran his hands through his hair. "I mean I thought he was gay!"

The girl laughed even harder and ran her hands through Sean's hair. He bat her away irritatedly. "I got to get to Westchester!"

\--

Moira stood in front of the mirror, smoothing her hands down the front of the dress, sighing.

"It's beautiful, Moira," Raven said breathlessly.

Moira nodded, feeling the lump in her throat. It was a beautiful dress. But it didn't feel like her. It was too sleek, too thin around her body with bare shoulders and a long bow trailing down the back. She didn't feel like herself. Suddenly, she was very far away, as though she were watching the wedding preparations from above. She turned to face Raven nervously.

"I'm...doing the right thing, right?”

“Marrying my brother?” Raven asked, raising her brow. “Well, it’s debatable.”

“It’s just…” Moira closed her eyes, trying to take deep breaths as she ran her hands down the front of the dress. Suddenly, everything felt too tight, constriction around her waist and chest that made it difficult to breathe. “Charles is…perfect. He’s…he’s a lovely man, you know that. I love him. I think he loves me. But…” she sighed. “I want what you and Hank have.”

Raven laughed incredulously. “What?”

“I want…passion!” Moira said, frustratedly. “I want Charles to miss me even when I’m gone for just a few seconds! I want him to kiss me and mean it! I want to look in his eyes and know he’s completely with me in a moment! I don’t think Charles and I have that…”

Moira felt Raven’s hand grab hers, squeezing gently and they stood for a moment in silence. When Moira opened her eyes, Raven’s face was pale but determined. “Listen to me,” she said. “Closely.”

“I think you and Charles are stable. I think you could spend the rest of your life with him if you wanted to. But you’re right, sometimes Charles is distant, and sometimes that can be difficult to deal with. But Hank and I have been together almost twice as long as you and Charles and…” Raven gave Moira a watery smile. “We’re not engaged. We’re not getting married. And you’re wearing the white dress, not me.”

The two women looked at each other warily. The stress of the past week had been weighing down on Moira, but for the moment, it lifted, and she could breathe freely for the first time.

“Marry Charles,” Raven said. “Or don’t. He isn’t perfect, and neither are you. The only thing that matters is if you’re perfect for each other.”

Moira smiled. “Isn’t that from Good Will Hunting?”

“I paraphrased, okay?”

They hugged each other tightly, laughing and crying and feeling lighter than they had in weeks.

\--

Bisexual.  
Charles wished.

\--

“Can we talk?”

Charles shut the door in Erik’s face.

“Charles,” Erik said plaintively through the door. “Please, I have something I want to say.”

“You can say it out there,” Charles told him, pressing his nose against the wood of the door. “Make it quick.”

“I’m not going to expose you,” Erik’s voice was muffled, but it sounded far too loud in Charles’s ears. “I’m not trying to force you out of the closet, it’s not my place. But I think you need to confront this, and I don’t think your fiancee should have to suffer through your struggle.”

Charles opened the door a crack. “I’m…I don’t know anything, about fashion, or Barbara Streisand, or interior design-”

“You know better than to rely on stereotypes,” Erik said dryly. “Gay people aren’t handed a different manual when they’re born. Gay people, much like straight people, come in all sorts. Personally, Barbara Streisand gives me a headache and I don’t wear women’s clothing. Well,” Erik tilted his head, “except for this one time at a party, but I was drunk, and- you know what? Doesn’t matter. But the things you like aren’t what certify you as a card carrying friend of Dorothy’s. The only thing that makes you gay,” Erik finished, “is being gay.”

Charles nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he was drowning in the warmth of Erik’s gaze. He looked as rumpled and as tired as Charles felt, wrapped in a coat and slouching on Charles’s front step. No longer did he look the dashing part of a mysterious stranger, but instead he looked more tangible, felt more real. Warmth covered Charles’s hand, and he looked down to find it clasped between Erik’s own. Charles slipped it out of Erik’s grip.

“Why me?” Charles asked quietly.

“What are you talking about?”

“Is this pity? Are you trying to prove a point?”

“Charles-”

“Why do you want me?” Charles asked bluntly. “I’m a boring, middle-class English teacher who’s apparently stuck in the closet, getting married to a woman this Sunday.”

“You’re not boring.”

Both hands gripped Charles tightly by his arms, bringing him close to Erik. “You’re warm,” Erik told him. “You’re funny, you’re sweet, you’re kind, you’re smart, you love your job, you care about your family,” Erik smiled, “You’re handsome.”

Charles blushed.

“But most of all, you’re so passionate. Especially when you’re angry.” Charles laughed quietly against Erik’s shoulder. “I admire that passion. I admire you. This isn’t pity, but it is selfish.”

He was released, and Erik stepped back off the step. He looked determined, brow furrowed, and honest. “If you come out, don’t do it for me, or for Moira, or for anyone else. Do it for yourself.”

Then he turned on his heel and walked back the way he came, leaving Charles clutching the doorway with a white-knuckled grip.

\--

Moira hadn’t seen Charles in twenty-four hours. She stood in front of the mirror, once again confronting herself in a white dress. She’d tossed and turned all night, unable to make a decision. It wasn’t just that the marriage was giving her doubts. What if she couldn’t find anyone else? Or worse, she was too late and she missed her chance in what could have been something special? She thought of the night when everything went to hell, even if she didn’t know it at the time. Her and Charles, on his couch, watching Sean Cassidy announce to the world that her fiancee was gay. She thought of the years of wonderful, platonic affection Charles had bestowed upon her. Every kiss, every caress: half-hearted, a lie? Charles himself, too often lost inside his own head, especially now. The secrets she was beginning to suspect he was keeping.

A gentle knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Come in,” Moira said, surprised by the clarity in her voice.

“You look beautiful,” Charles said, and she turned around to face him.

He looked handsome. The tuxedo Raven rented for him fit perfectly. His face was open and clear and his hair fell into his eyes with the same boyish charm it always did. He was leaning against the door, his eyes trained on her in her dress.

“Thank you,” she told him. “You shouldn’t be here.”

They looked at each other plainly. He smiled bashfully, breaking contact to look down at his own shoes. “I don’t know if I told you,” he said. “But Levine is making me take a leave of absence until after the wedding.”

Moira was nonplussed. “Is that…is he going to fire you?”

Charles shrugged. “I don’t think I qualify for the Teacher of the Year Award, at least.”

“Oh, Charles…”

He smiled again. “That doesn’t matter to me. What does matter to me is the fact that I might not have a job on Monday. But you know what? I would rather quit than stay employed at a school that’s ashamed to have me.”

They were going to talk about it. Moira clenched her fists. “Sometimes you talk a lot,” Moira said. “But you don’t say anything.”

“Can I say some things now?”

She nodded.

“Then, I’m sorry I put you through all of this, Moira. You don’t deserve that.”

Moira sighed through her nose, trying to prevent the onslaught of tears that were threatening to come. “Four years of friendship, Charles. That’s what this was. Only I didn’t know it at the time.”

“I didn’t either,” Charles said, and they both laughed sadly. “I’m sorry.”

“What changed?”

“Aside from Cassidy? The reporter.”

“Erik Lehnsherr? He’s outside in the reception hall, I saw him there.”

“He helped me realize…well.”

They could still do this, Moira realized. They could pretend that this conversation had never happened, and walk down the aisle as husband and wife. She could probably even convince herself to look the other way if Charles wanted to pursue… other interests. They could live quite comfortably that way. But Moira was tired of comfortable. She wanted excitement. She thought Charles wanted it too.

“I love you, Charles.”

“I love you too,” he said, quite seriously. “But I won’t put you through this.”

Moira let out a shuttering breath, holding out her arms. “Then come here and do it properly.”

Charles crossed the room to hold her hands in his, a sad parody of the arrangement waiting for them at the altar. “Moira…” his voice was hardly above a whisper. “I’m gay.”

“I know,” Moira was smiling through tears, and soon they were both crying.

“I guess we should officially call off the wedding,” Moira said eventually, when they had both collected themselves somewhat.

Charles had no time to respond before the door opened to reveal Raven, looking equal parts worried and furious.

“Charles! You’re not supposed to be in here! The wedding is starting in twenty-”

“We’re not getting married,” Moira said.

\--

Raven’s resounding scream sent Hank running into the room, looking wild eyed and harried as he looked for the source of her ire. “What’s wrong?” He asked her.

“They’re not getting married!” Raven said, her eyes brimming full of tears as she took in Charles and Moira’s defensive stances. “They aren’t going through with it, Hank!”

“Oh!” Hank looked confused. “Well that’s…I’m so sorry, you two?”

“I put so much effort into the wedding!” Raven lamented. “The food, the dress, the rings! Everything was perfect, and now it’s all going to waste!”

Charles suppressed a smile. His sister was upset, but not at him or Moira.

“And not to mention the cost! And the honeymoon, all going to waste now! This wedding was all I had to distract myself with and now it’s over before it began!”

“Raven,” Hank said awkwardly. “It’s going to be all right, there will be other weddings…”

“Not like this one!” Raven snapped. “This was  _my_  wedding!”

A laugh escaped from Moira before she could stop herself. Charles, too, was biting his lip and grinning. Raven was red in the face, looking as if she was ready to pitch Hank down the aisle herself.

“Raven…” Hank was flustered, looking at Charles and Moira for assistance. “This wasn’t  _your_  wedding. This was for Charles and Moira.”

“Hank,” Charles was trying very hard not to grin. “Listen, mate, you’re missing the point.”

“I think you’re going to have to tell him,” Moira told Raven. “He’s not going to get it on his own.”

The look on Hank’s face is almost worth all the heartbreak, Moira thought, when Raven planted her feet firmly on the ground, hands on her hips, and shouted her declaration for Hank (and the rest of the town) to hear:

“For God’s sake,  _marry me_ , Hank!”

All the color drained out of Hank’s face faster than anyone would have thought possible. He stared at Raven, her cheeks pink, her hair curling around her face as she leveled him with her most terrifying glare. “Marry you?” Hank repeated.

“Obviously!” Raven snapped. “Charles and Moira got engaged after three years! We’ve been dating for nine. Nine, Hank! I can’t stand another minute of this!” She closed her eyes and spoke quietly. “So what’s it going to be?”

When Raven opened her eyes, Hank was on his knee. “Raven,” he grabbed her hand. “I’m an idiot. You made the first move in high school, and it’s just like you to make the first move now. Of course I’ll marry you,” Hank stumbled and paused, looking up at her uncertainly, “that is, if you’ll still have me?”

“Yes!”

\--

It was quite the feat to suddenly switch around the wedding couples, but they managed it somehow. The wedding dress fit Raven perfectly, (something Charles thought was not so coincidental), and Charles and Hank quickly exchanged ties, Hank fumbling nervously as Charles showed him how to make a bowtie. Moira showed up with just a few minutes to spare, looking lovely and resplendent in Raven’s maid of honor dress. She and Charles caught each other’s eyes and shared a laugh over Hank struggling to pin his boutonniere.

“Listen,” Moira said, as they walked down the hall towards the altar. “I’m trying to hold it together, but honestly I’m a bit devastated and angry with you right now.”

“I know,” Charles mumbled. “I’m sorry. I never meant to lie to you like that. I didn’t even realize I was lying to you like that.”

“I’m going to take that honeymoon, if you don’t mind,” Moira was looking ahead, not meeting his gaze. “I think I need some time before I can be your friend again.”

Sadness spread inside Charles’s mouth like a bad taste. He nodded however, and gripped Moira’s hand reassuringly. “I understand.”

When they’d appeared in the main hall, Moira was all smiles and cheerful again. Charles didn’t quite understand how she could put on faces like that. Every head in the hall swiveled towards them, gazes confused and intent. Charles caught Erik’s eye, he stood on the opposite side of the room, his face clearing, his mouth opening slightly in recognition-

“We have an announcement to make!” Moira announced, clapping her hands together.

“Right! Yes,” Charles tried to look optimistic. “We’re not getting married.”

“However!” Moira’s voice rose to compensate for the sudden wave of sound from their shocked wedding guests. “This wedding will commence with the marriage of two other parties, Raven Xavier and Henry McCoy!”

“Feel free to stay,” Charles felt more confidence, looking at the bright grin spreading on Erik’s face. “The wedding will continue as planned, with the exception of the bride and groom.”

\--

To say that the wedding went off without a hitch would be a massive overstatement. The official stumbled over Raven and Hank’s names, Charles searched his pockets for the rings for a good minute before they realized Hank still had them in his pocket, and Moira ended up walking down the aisle with Theresa instead of Charles, who instead got paired with Alex. But all in all, the wedding was wonderful. Raven was absolutely glowing, and Hank was nervous and giddy. But best of all, their eyes never left each other, even through all the mistakes, and when Hank almost dropped the rings, they stood there, completely committed.  
Charles wasn’t surprised by the mix of happiness and sadness he felt at watching the wedding proceed without him. He’d done the right thing, but four years was a long time to spend with someone. He knew he would feel Moira’s loss, was already feeling it, and knew that his life would likely be in shambles after this day. But the look of wonder on Raven’s face was worth the uncertainty, Charles thought with conviction. He could see Erik watching him with clear eyes, spine straight and focused. He could make out the smile on Erik’s lips as the party made its way down the aisle. They would talk later, Charles knew.

\--

Moira had begged off the reception, which was fair to her. She and Charles shared a tight hug at the entrance. She’d changed into jeans and was holding her plane ticket in hand. “Have a wonderful time,” Charles whispered into her ear.

“I’ll try my best,” Moira wiped away her tears. “Bye Charles.”

“Bye Moira.”

\--

Charles was making his way towards Erik. He wiped his sweaty hands against his pant legs, avoiding the party guests who were all clamoring for his attention. Halfway across the dance floor, he was stopped.

“Mr. Xavier!”

Charles spun around only to come face to face with Sean bloody Cassidy. Everyone stopped, the dance floor falling still, the music screeching to a stop, even forks pausing on the way to mouths as everyone saw the Academy Award winning actor running towards Charles.

“Sean?”

“Mr. Xavier! Man, I’m so glad I caught you! I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I outed you like that, but I thought everyone knew! Not that I was right anyway, I heard on the news, you’re engaged to Ms. MacTaggart? And when I got into town, everyone at this bar said you were getting married today! But when I got to the church it was empty, and the minister said the reception was being held here, and I just had to apologize to you and Moira, I can’t believe I did something so idiotic! Anyway, can you possibly forgive me?”

Charles forgot just how much air Sean was capable of holding in his lungs. He looked around the room and blushed when he saw everyone staring.

“Sean,” Charles scratched the back of his head. “You were right.”

“What?”

“Moira and I, we didn’t get married. I’m…I’m gay. You were right, I’m not in love with Moira.”

“Wow,” Sean ran a hand through his red curls, and Charles noticed how bedraggled he looked, dressed in jeans and a beat up leather jacket, stubble dotting his cheeks and his eyes looked red and bleary. “So Moira’s not…? Where is she?”

“On her way to the airport,” Charles said, nonplussed. “She’s leaving for our honeymoon to Paris.”

“Oh my God,” Sean shouted. “I have to go!”

Like the dramatic actor he was, he turned on his heel and sprinted out of the reception hall, tossing a hurried, “Thanks for everything, you’re the best, Mr. Xavier!”

It took a few minutes, but everything calmed down again. Charles made a somewhat poorly improvised speech about Hank, but it garnered a few laughs all the same. People clanked their spoons against their glasses to get Raven and Hank to kiss. They fed each other bits of cake and Charles laughed at the astonishment on Hank’s face when he realized it was his favorite flavor.

A hand wrapped around his elbow and Charles was yanked backwards into waiting arms. He startled only a moment before settling back against a broad, comfortable chest.

“Hello,” Erik’s voice was low and warm in Charles’ ear. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day.”

There was no way Erik didn’t notice the full body shiver his words caused. Charles turned, placing his hands haltingly on Erik’s chest. “We should talk somewhere…more quiet,” Charles said.

“Lead the way,” Erik rumbled.

They ended up in the coat room past the ballroom.

The irony was not lost on Charles.

“You realize you just shoved us inside what is essentially a closet?” Erik asked, but he was smiling.

“Hush,” Charles grinned, leaning back against one of the coat racks. “You wanted to say something?”

“Just that I’m proud of you,” Erik replied, shoving his hands inside his suit pockets. “It wasn’t easy, what you did, but you did the right thing.”

“It feels like a weight’s been lifted,” Charles confessed. “But honestly it’s going to be hell tomorrow. There’s so many people I have to answer to, my job-”

“You don’t owe anyone answers,” Erik replied. “Charles, your life is your own, and if they can’t accept that,” he shrugged. “Fuck them.”

That startled a laugh out of Charles. They stood in silence for a moment, grinning and hopeful. Finally, Erik reached out and brushed a bit of Charles’s hair behind his ear.

“So,” he said, “forgive me if I’m being presumptuous, but you’re single now, right?”

Charles’s smile tempered slightly, and he caught Erik’s hand in his own. It couldn’t be that easy, as much as he wished it was.

“Erik,” he sighed. “I just got out of a four year relationship. I’m standing here in my wedding suit. Gay or not, I’ve been spending the last four years of my life committed to someone else. I don’t know if I should be starting a relationship with someone right now.”

Erik nodded, but he didn’t look defeated. “I can wait,” he said. “When you’re ready.”

“But aren’t you going back to L.A.?” Charles was puzzled. “You’ve got a life, a career, on the other side of the country!”

“Don’t think this is about you,” Erik teased, “but I’ve been planning to move to New York for some time. My parents live on the East Coast, and to be honest, I’ve been trying to get out of reporting for a while now.”

“But…what are you going to do next?”

Erik shrugged. “I’ve got a few employers interested in me. But journalism isn’t what it used to be. Maybe I’ll write a book. After I finish my last article, of course.” He grinned.

Against all logic in his head, Charles leaned up and pulled on Erik’s collar. They met softly, but intensely. An electric feeling lit Charles from head to toe as his lips moved softly against Erik. He opened his mouth and Erik groaned, winding an arm around Charles’ waist to pull him closer. Charles hummed into the kiss, letting himself feel the intensity of his attraction to Erik for the first time.

“So…” Erik gasped when he broke off for air. “You should, mmm, call me. Soon.”

“I can,” Charles kissed him. “Absolutely.” Kiss. “Do that.” Kiss.

“Maybe we can…” Erik was cut off by Charles and quickly stopped talking once he had arms full of Charles and the taste of him on his tongue.

They only had a few moments of fumbling in the coatroom with Charles pressing hurried kisses against Erik’s neck and Erik struggling to remove his belt before the door opened with a bang and they were interrupted by the newly married Mr. and Mrs. Xavier-McCoy.

Hank was the first to notice them, hurriedly taking his hands away from Raven’s waist and blushing at the sight of Charles.

“Hank!” Raven whined. “We’re married, I deserve coatroom sex!”

Erik coughed.

“Oh my gosh, Charles!” She wasn’t embarrassed, but she was irritated. “What are you doing in here with-” her eyes narrowed before widening in shock, “Erik Lehnsherr!”

“Hello,” Erik waggled his fingers at her, smiling. “Congratulations on the wedding.”

Raven looked at him and Charles, her mouth falling open as she took in their disheveled clothes and hair. “You!” She pointed at Erik. “You seduced my brother out of his engagement!”

“I would hardly say that-” Charles began, but he was interrupted by Raven seizing Erik and giving him undoubtedly one of the tightest hugs of his life.

“He’s fantastic,” Raven told Charles seriously, once she’d released Erik. “Get a hold of him while you can.”

“It’s…” Charles looked as mortified as he felt. “We’re taking things slow.”

“And we’re taking things down the hall,” Erik input smoothly. “So you two can have some privacy. Great to see you two again.”

With that, he grabbed Charles’s arm and they quickly left the coatroom, giggling and red-faced despite themselves.

\--

Moira sat down, opening the novel she’d been planning to read. To say that she wasn’t unhappy would be wrong. She was sad, of course. She loved Charles and to have that love thrown back in her face, however gently, stung. But there was an element of excitement to this all. She was still young, she reminded herself. She had time to find love, to find passion. Time away from small town Westchester would provide a new perspective. Moira looked forward to letting her hair down, so to speak.

An announcement overhead informed her that the flight would be delayed by at least an hour. She sighed through her nose. It didn’t matter though. The airline could lose all her luggage and it wouldn’t matter. She was starting a new chapter of her life. Nothing was set in stone, that was for sure.

“Oh my God!”

Moira looked up from her book. Across from her chair, two older women were ogling something behind her. They were leaning forward, craning their scrawny necks to get a better look.

“Is that really him?”

“I think it is!”

“I need his autograph! He’s even sexier in person!”

Moira twisted in her seat. Just a few feet away was a tall, thin man in a leather jacket looking around the airport like he was hopelessly lost. Moira immediately recognized the bright red hair and stubble around his cheeks.

“Sean?”

He turned around at the sound of his name but overbalanced and tripped. He stumbled over to her, looking wild-eyed.

“Ms. MacTaggart! Moira! Thank God I found you!”

“Sean,” Moira stood up, incredulous at his presence. “What are you doing here?”

Sean grabbed her hands and held them in his own, looking so intensely at her that she felt it difficult to return his gaze. She hadn’t seen Sean in person since he was a mop haired, pot smoking teenager. She’d been a young teacher’s assistant back then, watching over Sean every time he ended up in detention and answering his endless questions about…anything.

Much had changed, that was obvious. Sean’s hair was much shorter and shiny with some sort of product. He was sporting a five o’clock shadow and had grown into his tall frame. Moira could have blushed at being in the presence with of a glamorous movie star when she was wearing a pair of ratty jeans and her high school jersey. Sean wasn’t looking at her like she was some small town bumpkin. He was looking at her like she’d hung the moon.

“I’m so sorry,” Sean said, squeezing her hands. “I had no idea you were engaged to Mr. Xavier! And I can’t believe I just tore apart your life like that, it was the most idiotic thing I’ve ever done, and that includes breaking all the windows on the second floor of the high school. You deserve so much better, Moira.”

Moira blinked. “I can’t believe you came all this way just to apologize.”

“It’s more than that,” Sean said. “When I heard you were engaged to Mr., er, Charles, I was crushed,” he laughed sheepishly. “I was totally heartbroken.”

“Heartbroken?” Moira couldn’t believe it.

“I was in love with you!” Sean exclaimed. “You were the most incredible girl I’d ever seen in my life. I didn’t just come here to apologize, I came to tell you how I felt,” Sean suddenly looked down at his shoes, refusing to meet her gaze. “How I still feel.”

Moira felt her heart skip a beat. Things like this just didn’t happen in real life. It was impossible to think that on the same day she’d broken up with her gay fiancé, a handsome, successful Hollywood actor would declare his love for her. She raised her eyebrows.

“So you came all the way to Westchester to break up my wedding?”

“Well, it sounds crazy when you put it like that.”

Moira laughed, swinging their hands between them. “Maybe a little crazy, but honestly? I could use some crazy in my life right now.”

Sean grinned. “I prefer to think of it as passionate.”

“It’s not exactly a perfect time,” Moira told him. “I’m leaving for Paris in an hour.”

“I know,” Sean said, and he released her to dig into his pocket.

In his hand was a ticket to Paris, same flight.

“I was planning to catch you there if the flight hadn’t been delayed,” he admitted. “So, maybe a little crazy.”

“Probably a lot crazy,” Moira laughed.

“It’s not a perfect time,” Sean said. “But that’s not what matters to me. It’ll never be a perfect time, Moira. The only thing that matters…”

“Is if we’re perfect for each other,” Moira finished, grinning.

Moira could hear the hysterical screams of the women behind her when Sean grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into what was undoubtedly the most impassioned kiss of her life.

When they broke apart, Moira thought she might be seeing stars in his eyes. He handed her his ticket.

“So…Paris?”

\--

Charles did not win the Teacher of the Year Award. Not that he expected to, when have the town was still reeling from the shock of his break up with Moira, and now that he was officially the only publicly gay teacher in the school district.

But winning the award was nothing compared to the entire auditorium standing up during the ceremony and declaring him their favorite teacher. Scott Summers had led the revolution, his eyes trained on Charles as he stated he was the best teacher Scott had ever had. Charles had a hard time disguising the tears in his eyes as Mr. Shaw sunk back into his seat, sullenly holding the trophy.

They celebrated Charles’s success (and keeping his job after the community’s overwhelming support at the ceremony) by heading to one of Raven’s favorite bars and proceeding to have one of the most embarrassing dance parties of all time. Raven and Hank were spinning around on the dance floor, (Raven leading and Hank struggling not to trip over his own feet), and Charles was laughing and making a fool of himself as the last one in a winding conga line, when he was pulled away from the crowd and into some familiar arms.

“Erik!” Charles managed to squeak before he was being kissed within an inch of his life.

“You didn’t call,” Erik said sternly, but Charles could see a twinkle in his eye.

“I was planning to!” Charles exclaimed. “I didn’t think I would see you for another month, at least!”

Erik shrugged, grinning and pulling him into a fast-paced dance. He quickly established the lead, pressing close to Charles so he could feel exactly how much he’d been missed.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Erik said. “I was waiting until I’d signed a book deal to move over here.”

“That’s incredible!” Charles cheered. “I read your article by the way.”

“Oh?” Erik spun him around in his arms. “What did you think?”

“You make me sound a lot closer to Sean than I actually was,” Charles smirked. “All I did was give him a few books to read after school.”

“That’s not how Sean sees it,” Erik reminded him. “To him, you were the biggest inspiration he had for becoming an actor.”

“I think Moira had a part to play as well,” Charles said dryly, and they both shared a laugh over the tabloid photos of Sean with a very familiar looking woman trapped in a passionate embrace on top of the Eiffel Tower.

“Maybe,” Erik conceded. “But you’re still Westchester’s Number One Teacher.”

“You saw the ceremony?”

“I snuck into the back,” Erik answered. “You’re adorable when you’re surprised.”

Charles didn’t bother hesitating when he kissed Erik. They ignored the catcalls from Raven and Alex as Erik slipped his tongue inside Charles’s mouth.

“Get a room!” Logan shouted as they broke apart, giggling.

“This is crazy,” Charles said, wrapping his arms around Erik’s neck. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid,” Erik replied, pressing a kiss to Charles’s nose. “I’ve got no plans to go back to reporting about vapid celebrities and their sexy English teachers.”

“Wow,” Charles said, a bit dazed. “You think I’m sexy?”

“I think you’re ravishing,” Erik growled, and they engaged in some passionate kissing for a few more minutes.

“Yeah, Charles!” Raven cheered over the thumping beat of the music. “Get some!”

“Let’s get out of here,” Charles said breathlessly, when they broke apart. “Tonight, you’re the teacher.”

Erik closed his eyes and shivered, pressing another kiss to the corner of Charles’s mouth. “Lead the way,” he whispered.

\--

Charles’s house had become a bit more cluttered ever since Moira had left, now that there was no one to remind him to pick up his books. Erik didn’t seem to care about the books however, when he was biting down on Charles’s ear.

“God, one…bloody…second!” Charles cursed, struggling to make his way up the stairs without tripping over a stack of novels.

“Can’t,” Erik panted, licking a stripe up his neck. “I’ve been waiting too long to get my hands on you.”

Eventually they made their way to the bedroom, Charles fell onto the bed first. Erik approached him slowly but with purpose, their eyes locked on each other. Charles felt his throat go dry. He never wanted anyone as much as Erik. Two hands trapped Charles on either side of his head as Erik crawled forward to kiss him languidly. His tongue licked into Charles’s mouth slowly, savoring the taste. Charles didn’t know if his lack of experience showed, he was overwhelmed by the new sensations. Everything felt different, from the stubble scratching his cheeks to the hard line of Erik’s thigh pressed against his, and the broad flat chest that rubbed against his. One of Erik’s hands palmed the back of Charles’s neck and brought him up for a kiss, rubbing slowly at the skin between his shoulder blades.

Erik’s eyes were dark when they broke apart, pupils dilated as he breathed down Charles’s throat, warming him. Even with all their clothes on, Charles felt more aroused than he ever had in his life, his hips twitched upwards of their own accord, begging without words.

“Never done this before?” Erik confirmed, kissing gently along Charles’s collar, his fingers working deftly at the buttons.

Charles nodded, hiding his flushed face in Erik’s throat with embarrassment. Erik tutted and brought Charles back to meet his gaze. “Don’t feel ashamed,” Erik murmured, pausing his hands on Charles’s chest. “We’ll go slow. If you want to stop, just tell me.”

Charles nodded. He let his hands slide into Erik’s waistband and slip under his shirt to roam over that muscular back. His nails scratched lightly against the skin when Erik delivered a pleasurable bite just above his nipple.

“ _Erik_ ,” Charles moaned as Erik latched onto his skin and began to suck.

He deftly removed Charles’s shirt and allowed Charles to unbutton his, his eyes fluttering shut when Charles trailed his hand down his stomach. His hips thrust slightly against Charles’s, making the mattress bounce. Erik’s cock rubbed against Charles’s thigh eagerly as they worked off their belts. They took a moment to remove the rest of their clothes; Charles was proud of the way he didn’t hesitate to bare his cock, groaning when Erik took it in his hand and began to stroke.  
Erik’s cock looked big, intimidatingly so. Charles’s eyes widened slightly as Erik rubbed against his thigh, leaving a wet trail of precome. His eyes almost rolled back in his head as Erik firmly pumped his cock, letting his thumb pass over the head in maddening little circles.

“We don’t have to,” Erik mumbled as Charles writhed on top of the sheets. “Only what you want.”

“I want this,” Charles panted, straining forward to kiss Erik. He let his hands slide down from Erik’s biceps to his thighs, taking his cock in hand. Erik groaned, his hips giving an aborted thrust as he hid his face in Charles’s neck.

Charles had no experience with men, but he tried to go for what felt natural. Erik was patient, guiding him through what felt good. When Erik found the half empty bottle of lube in Charles’s nightstand, Charles smiled sheepishly.

“I’ve been practicing,” he admitted, and Erik let his forehead fall onto Charles shoulder.

“God, that is so hot,” Erik said, uncapping the lube hastily to coat his fingers.

Erik’s fingers were longer but thinner and soon Charles was baring down on three of them. Above him, Erik’s mouth was slightly agape, his eyes fixed on the junction where they met. Charles’s thighs fell open and he let out a surprised moan as Erik found that spot inside him and rubbed.

“Are you-?”

“Yes!” Charles cried, pulling Erik on top of him, heavy and sweaty and hard. They kissed hungrily, hands running over skin and through hair and sweat. They broke apart to search for a condom, Erik locating one of several he had in his suit pocket. Charles was practically begging as he helped Erik roll it on, taking a moment to stroke Erik’s cock. Erik pushed him back down, Charles’s head fell back onto the pillow, his hands dragging down Erik’s back as he guided himself inside Charles.

“Oh, fuck,” Charles whimpered, throwing his head back onto the pillow.

They went slow, but Charles still groaned at the stretch as Erik trembled to stop himself from sliding in all the way. When Charles nodded, Erik buried himself up to the hilt, his eyes firmly locked on Charles, looking for any sign of fear or hesitation. His eyes were green in the half-light of Charles’s room, but still full of warmth. Charles kissed him desperately as Erik started to move, unbelievably large and hard.

Charles clung to his broad shoulders, licking the sweat off Erik’s neck as Erik groaned and shifted his hips, his forearms falling into place on either side of Charles. He hit an angle that caused Charles to arch upwards, pinned by Erik’s weight as Charles’s feet kicked upwards with toe-curling pleasure. He couldn’t keep track of how much time passed, it had no meaning anymore as he held on as long as he could. His heels dug into the small of Erik's back as Erik teasingly pressed kisses along his throat. Charles latched onto Erik's shoulder, biting down hard to muffle a whine as his cock throbbed inside Charles. Each thrust was deep and hard, Charles thought he could take it faster but was helpless on his back as Erik moved. His cock reached long and deep, filling Charles with a pleasure he’d never even known, it made him remember the electric kiss that was their first, standing on a lonely road with Erik’s arms wrapped around him so tight-

Charles came in a long stream, moaning and tightening around Erik. He left scratches down Erik’s sweaty back, come splashed between their chests as he fell limp on the mattress. Erik groaned and thrust desperately, his hips smacking against Charles’s ass as he leaned down to kiss sweat-slicked skin. It was the most torturous pleasure Charles had ever known, he thought dazedly as he slipped his tongue into Erik’s mouth. He placed his hands around Erik’s hips, thinking he could almost close his fingers around that thin waist. Erik was making desperate noises against his mouth, shallow grunts whenever his hips met Charles’s thighs.

“Erik,” Charles whispered, hold tightening around trembling hips. “Please!”

The face Erik made when he came was so beautiful it made Charles wish he could capture the moment and keep it forever. His mouth hung open and his eyes were hazy with lust as he let out a hoarse cry, clinging so desperately to Charles.

It took them a few minutes to move, Erik lay on top of Charles, panting heavily. He slowly turned onto his back, and together they stared up at the ceiling, waiting for their breathing to ease.

“So,” Erik asked, after he’d managed to roll off and dispose of the condom, and laid back contentedly on his side, “definitely gay?”

Charles chuckled, smoothing his hair back from sweaty temples before resting his head on his arms. “Yes, definitely.”

“Good,” Erik’s voice rumbled in his chest. “Because that was fantastic and I’d like to do it again.”

Charles let out a pleased noise, his eyes closing. Erik felt warm and solid by his side, slightly stroking the hair back from Charles’s face before he curled an arm around his waist. Eventually they cleaned themselves up a bit, Charles making a face at the come cooling on his stomach and thighs. Erik laughed as he wiped at his own stomach and chest before bringing the sheets up to Charles’s shoulders.

Charles leaned back into Erik’s chest, closing his eyes at the warm, solid contact. Erik brought his arms around him and turned off the light, letting them settle for the night. Charles was nearly asleep when he was nudged by Erik.

“Are you happy?” Erik breathed, very still behind him.

“Yes,” Charles smiled, nudging him back. “Definitely.”

\--

“I think you’re crazier about my wedding than you were about your own,” Charles teased as he watched Raven fuss with the lines of his suit.

“If you can recall, Charles,” Raven huffed, “that was  _supposed_  to be  _your_  wedding.”

He laughed. They weren’t in a church this time. Aside from Erik’s Jewish background, he and Charles had both agreed nothing good could come of getting married in the same place Charles had nearly married Moira.

So much time had passed since that day, Charles thought. Looking in the mirror, he could see lines on his face and gray hair sprouting up around his temple, though Raven had assured him that he still looked “hot”. Erik’s face was gaining lines as well, his hair more gray than not, but he was still as beautiful as he had been when he first approached Charles at the bar.

“Are you ready?” Raven asked impatiently, straightening the flower in his lapel until she was satisfied.

Charles nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “Is everyone outside?”

“Yes.”

“The kids?”

“All fine, Charles.”

“What about paparazzi? I don’t want them following Moira and Sean around and causing a mess.”

“Haven’t seen any.”

“What about Edie? Is she comfortable sitting outside? I don’t want her to get heatstroke halfway through the ceremony-”

A knock on the door interrupted them. It opened and Charles’s heart soared before it sank. It was beginning to look horribly like his first wedding.

Erik ignored Raven’s cries of, “You’re not supposed to be here!” and batted her hands away as he took in Charles’s nervous face.

“You look like you’ve had one hell of a day,” Erik smiled, immediately easing Charles’s apprehension.

“It could be said,” Charles agreed.

He let Erik squeeze his shoulder in comfort. Together they took a deep breath. Charles fit his hand in Erik’s, letting his thumb brush over his knuckles.

“And it isn’t even over yet,” Erik mumbled, resting his chin on Charles’s head for a moment. “Are you ready?”

Charles grinned. “Yes.”

The wedding was fantastic, and everyone agreed that Sean Cassidy made a terrific speech.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's all she wrote. Please leave feedback? First time publishing anything ever written. Dedicated to Sarah, who listened to all my ramblings about this terrible 1997 comedy.


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